


it’s not an illusion

by divineauthor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: (lowkey though), B.A.R.F. | Binarily Augmented Retro Framing, Bisexual Peter Parker, Comic Book Science, Comic Book Violence, Family Bonding, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Identity Issues, Identity Porn, Male Friendship, Mentions of Gwen Stacy, Mentions of Miles Morales, Mentions of Peni Parker, Mentor/Protégé, Minor Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Minor Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson, Multiverse, POV Third Person, Peter Parker Deserves Better, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home Mid-Credits Scene, Press and Tabloids, Secret Identity, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie) Spoilers, peter b’s gonna fix shit (sorta)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-12 11:45:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divineauthor/pseuds/divineauthor
Summary: Peter might have been messing around with the inter-dimensional watch Miguel gave him (or well, he gave to Gwen, but Peter nicked it from her because she was stuck in school) when he got sucked into another universe. Who knew the numbers 199999 actually meant something?—•—Peter B. Parker accidentally visits MCU!Peter’s world during his fight with Mysterio.





	it’s not an illusion

**Author's Note:**

> my love for peter b has reached new heights and i’ve been itching to fix that mid-credits scene ever since i watched it because if that’s _my_ worst nightmare, imagine what peter’s going though. i banged this out in like a day so excuse any typos that’s all on me nsbdjdbd have fun!!! :D
> 
> oh and another note! when it says peter that's peter b, when it says spidey that's mcu!peter
> 
> title from: one direction’s “illusion” (happy belated 9 years to my favorite band!!!)

Peter might have been messing around with the inter-dimensional watch Miguel gave him (or well, he gave to Gwen, but Peter nicked it from her because she was stuck in school) when he got sucked into another universe. Who knew the numbers 199999 actually meant something? He sure didn’t.

When the watch plopped him down, the first thing he noticed was how everything felt. It was crazy weird how high definition and heavy everything was, from the people to the buildings to the sky. It was all so bright and vivid, it felt like he was fifteen again when his powers manifested overnight. He looked down at his own body like it would magically match his surroundings, but to his relief, he looked the same as ever. Peter felt lighter than air just by being here, he almost would’ve stopped to marvel at it all if it weren’t for Mysterio popping his fake head all over—wait, was he in London? Is that the actual Big Ben he was seeing? What the hell was he doing in London? And that was definitely Mysterio. He’d recognize that fish bowl head anywhere.

Just when his webs attached to a building, Peter offhandedly hoped this Spider-Man wasn't British (or Spider-Woman, or person, or pig—Gwen gave him a tongue lashing about that because, yeah, he might be reaching his forties sooner rather than later, but teen Gwen was terrifying when she was angry and righteous).

It seemed almost sacrilegious not being in New York. 

He swung quickly into the fray, yelling at the people crazy enough to stay near danger to get to safety when he landed down at the top of the bridge where Mysterio’s monster was “fighting” him. Peter almost snorted. The grandiosity of the illusion was reasonable given the things Peter had seen, but there was something too staged for Peter. Or maybe it was because of his prior knowledge of Beck and his inane schemes that made it obvious. But it seemed like Beck in this universe wanted to be a hero too. The monologue sounded dramatic and right up Beck’s alley. 

Peter quickly surveyed the casualties. There was so much damage that he almost believed that this monster was real, but he knew Beck. The universes might be different, but some motives never changed. It just seemed like this Beck had better projections, ones that could actually cause major destruction. There wasn’t any gas as far as Peter could tell which was great for him, but he needed to know how to stop Beck before he killed any more people. But first he needed to figure out how to stop these projections from causing any further damage. 

There was a tingling sensation he only felt with the other Spider people and his eyes darted up to see this universe’s Spidey take a deep dive into Mysterio’s monster. Peter breathed deeply, closed his eyes, and jumped high, bypassing his secondary instinct to wait for the inevitable crash and opened his eyes as he landed on a... drone. Are these militarized drones? How the hell did Beck get a hold of hundreds of militarized drones? So Beck used these things as advanced holographic illusionary tech which were all controlled by him. Peter muttered, “If you weren’t crazy, I’d be slightly impressed with this.”

He looked up and saw Spidey attaching their webs to as many drones as they can. The suit looked different, the trusty old red and blue gone in exchange for red and black. Was this some kind of trend he was missing out on? Granted, Miles’ suit still smelled like paint while this Spidey’s suit looked new. It actually looked like Stark tech which was interesting to think about. Peter yelled, “Hey, kid, do you need some help?”

Spidey glanced down and fell a couple of feet before they hung onto a drone beneath them. “What the fuck? Oh my God, I’m hallucinating. Beck must be going insane if he thinks I think you’re here. You don’t even look _real_. It’s fine, just focus, Peter. Electrocute the drones and ignore the weird fake Spider-Man in the corner.”

Peter frowned. This Peter was rude and young, going by the sound of his voice. And thankfully not British, which was a little weird considering where they were. God, how many Spider-Peters were there in the multiverse? Peter was going to develop a complex if he met more versions of himself every time he popped into a new dimension.

Spidey tapped his chest and a good portion of the drones spazzed out, making the projection die. Huh, this would be a hell of a lot easier if Miles were here, but there wasn’t any time to spare because Spidey locked eyes onto Beck and said, “I see you.” 

He immediately started swinging towards him, kicking stray drones away and Peter couldn’t believe at how unfairly attractive this universe’s Beck was. At least at home, Beck had the decency to _not_ look like a movie star, though Peter knew how much he wanted to look like one. Might be Spidey’s luck then, having a hot guy as his villain. That might be the only thing Peter’s Parker Luck had going for him. No money, no wife, no aunt, but at least his bad guys weren’t oddly handsome. Well, to be fair, he and MJ were working things out, but they’re still not remarried or anything. Unfortunately.

Peter followed Spidey, but hung on the underside of the tower as all the drones nearby turned towards Spidey and started to fire. Peter shot his webs at him and yanked ungracefully until the other Spidey got his bearings. The drones flew the other way, probably because Peter ruined the trajectory of Spidey’s intended destination, but it bought them some time. 

“You’re real,” Spidey said, sounding awed and way too tired. He reached out and poked Peter’s stomach as if he couldn’t believe Peter was right in front of his eyes. What was up with these kids and poking his stomach? “Who are you? And why are you wearing my suit? And why do you sound old? Sorry that was mean.”

“Long story short, kid. The multiverse is real, my name’s Peter B. Parker and I’ve been Spider-Man for twenty two years. I accidentally landed in your universe and it looks like you need some help,” Peter explained, trying to spit of the information as fast as he possibly could. Spidey ripped off his mask and gaped at him and, jeez, looking at him made Peter feel incredibly old. There were some similarities between them, the brown hair, brown eyes, but not much else. Peter visibly flinched and ran a hand across his mask. “God, if I didn’t know this entire bridge is basically empty you would have given me a heart attack.”

He reached up and took his mask off too, a show of faith if he will. 

Spidey’s eyes widened and he reached out a trembling hand to touch his face. Peter didn’t even flinch, allowing Spidey to come closer. “You—you look like Uncle Ben. I don’t know like... if someone animated him and made him... Spider-Man.”

With that comment, Peter stiffened. He couldn’t think about that right now, not when Spidey looked dead on his feet and the drones were circling back near Beck, near them. Peter shoved his mask back on and Spidey did the same. “Look we can talk about all this stuff later. Right now you have to get Beck to stop these drones. I don’t know how they’re controlled—”

“I, uh,” Spidey interrupted, voice cracking. “Gave him E.D.I.T.H. It’s Mr. Stark’s entire military defense system. He gifted it to me after he die—yeah. Anyways, I gave him the controls. I can get them back, it’s programmed to me and Beck only. Electricity short-circuits the drones out, but a good old beating destroys them just as well.”

“You—” Peter breathed harshly through the mask and resisted the urge to break Tony Stark’s dead nose for giving a child an entire weapons system, or the urge to just pummel Beck for manipulating a kid like this. Peter wouldn’t have trusted a thirty year old him with thousands of weapons under his fingertips, let alone a sixteen year old him. He knew that pressure that would cause and the responsibility of that would crush him. “You know what? We’re gonna have a serious talk after this. Peter to Peter. Spider to Spider. But right now, I’m gonna go after the drones and get any civilians away from them. You need to get E.D.I.T.H. back. And, kid?” Spidey’s whole body turned towards him and he didn’t need for him to take off the mask to know Peter had his full attention. “Trust your Spider sense. Your eyes will deceive you.”

Peter stood up and so did Spidey. Spidey cracked a joke, “Aunt May calls it a Peter Tingle.” Then he shot off and up to Beck.

Peter couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. He shook his head in amusement and aimed for the flock of drones nearing the populated areas. Fucking _Peter Tingle_. God, Peter loved May. 

Peter landed right near the drones, catching their attention probably since he was dressed like a target. Or _the_ target, Peter amended. His webs latched onto a drone and he swung and hit a couple on the way. It was cathartic, punching his way out of trouble and into more trouble. Felt like settling into a familiar blanket, if a blanket was beating things up as Spider-Man of course. He quickly dodged the blast which hit another drone and Peter’s brain clicked. If he could get these drones to aim at each other, then the rest was history.

Peter shot his webs at a nearby building and swung slow enough for the drones to follow him. He landed on top of the bridge and snatched a drone he destroyed minutes ago, attaching a short strand of webs to it in a quick second. He threw it up and watched as the drones followed its movements and shot at the defunct piece of metal before shifting and shooting at each other. Peter didn’t see anymore because he dropped down and swung low near the water, catching himself on the side. He was about to yank another drone into the water when they all stopped. Peter felt the tension from his shoulders lessen as he saw them ascend up into the atmosphere, away from London, away from hurting anyone. 

Spidey did it.

He crawled up the bridge and was about to call out to Spidey who was, again, maskless (did the kid not understand the need for a secret identity?) when a tall girl ran up to him. Spidey looked rough, but when his eyes locked on the girl’s, his entire face just lit up and he said, “MJ—”

“Hey,” she said, dropping her weapon on the floor and pulling him into a hug. “Hey, hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, are _you_ okay?” Spidey fired back, worriedly checking over for injuries. Peter would’ve been smiling at the scene if it weren’t for the fact that this girl was Spidey’s _MJ_. Peter might be old, but he knew who Zendaya was and this universe’s MJ looked scarily like her. He absentmindedly tugged on the watch and set his coordinates back home. Earth-616. Good number. Great number actually. He wouldn’t leave until he talked to Spidey more, but as he listened to the couple freak out and awkwardly flirt, he’d let them have this moment.

Peter knew Spidey needed this. A moment of relief knowing that the people you love, that the person you love was safe. He heard MJ pick the weapon back up and walk the other direction while Spidey hobbled to the edge and sat down gingerly. Spidey groaned a little and Peter’s sympathy reached an all time high. Spidey called out, “You can come down now.”

Peter landed on the ledge and waited a moment before he said, “I married my universe’s MJ, you know.”

Spidey groaned and covered his eyes, but this time Peter could tell it was in embarrassment rather than pain. “No more speaking, not until I’m home and I’ve slept for twenty four hours straight.”

“And where is home exactly?” Peter asked, just to make sure. 

Spidey lifted his hands away from his eyes and said, “Queens. Where else would it be?”

“Thank God,” Peter said. Being in London was a vacation then. Or at the very least, a mission. All was right in the world: Peter Parker was going back to New York. 

“I’ll ask Happy to fly you over. That’s probably the easiest way with the least questions asked. You still look weird. It’s like you’re... drawn. Animated? I don’t even know anymore.”

“You’re telling me? Kid, imagine how your world looks like to me. It’s so intense.” Peter scratched the back of his head and looked at the universe Spidey lived in. Intense was right. Too right. 

A moment passed before Spidey asked, “Did you really marry your MJ?”

Peter laughed and pulled them both up till they were standing. He nudged Spidey gently for him to lead and said, “Yeah, kid. I’ll talk more about my life once we reach New York. I don’t know about you, but being here makes me antsy. And for the love of May, please put your mask back on. Who knows what random camera is still working.”

Spidey hurriedly shoved the mask back onto his face and led him towards their ticket home.

* * *

* * *

Turns out going back to New York was simpler than Peter thought it’d be. Maybe there was a perk in Stark and Co. knowing your secret identity. It was probably the only one though. Happy had stared at him, at how different he looked in comparison to everything else in this universe, and just muttered something about how ‘this is why I never want kids,’ which, in all honesty, Peter could relate to pre-meeting Miles, but he couldn’t do that now. He understood why MJ divorced him when he adamantly refused to have children. They were just... sources of good in the world, even when they would inevitably disappoint him and give him heart attacks when they, to throw out a random example, never keep their mask on even though it protects their secret identity. 

They landed in back in the states in no time and Peter waited at the Avengers Compound in upstate New York, hidden from the other Avengers, or wherever superheroes were here. Peter quickly bypassed the security with a goober Peni gave him months ago and looked at all the files on the rest of the supers. Tony was dead, so was Natasha, it seemed like Steve was permanently out of the picture, Bruce was incapacitated given his arm, while Thor and Carol were off world. Clint had a family in the Midwest which is surprising to think about and Scott was with his own kid. Vision was dead, but Wanda was decidedly not. That left the Falcon and the Winter Soldier who were currently in the compound. He typed in a few names he knew just because he was curious and he had time to spare because Spidey wanted to take MJ out on a date, but his search yielded no results. The Fantastic Four gang weren't up and running yet and he had yet to see Wade’s name anywhere. This universe was weird. 

Peter hummed and was about to leave to get some grub when a notification popped up on the computer. SPIDER-MAN: IDENTITY COMPROMISED. Peter gaped at the screen until the notification faded away and he rushed over to the computer and typed in Spider-Man into a search engine. 

The most popular video trending was on The Daily Bugle site. Wow, JJ seemed to have moved onto the internet in this dimension, the stubborn ass actually did it. It showed Beck’s movie star head acting as if Spidey ordered the drone attack on all of London. Peter’s body was on lock down, shoulders tense as the video shortly cut off before Beck could say more, but a moment later, he said, “Peter Parker” and Peter rushed to where he last saw a phone. 

He ran down the hall and dialed the number Happy gave him before he went off to Queens. Happy answered in a heartbeat and Peter said, “Find the kid and bring him to the compound. _Now_.” It was a testament to how serious his voice sounded when Happy only grunted and hung up the phone.

It was the tensest forty minutes of his life, waiting for Happy to come up with Spidey. Right when he was about to go out of his mind and swing to Queens himself, a nearby plane flew closer and closer until it was on the front yard. Peter dashed and made it just in time for Spidey to come down the stairs, face ashen and eyes red. He had a stray duffel bag over his shoulder that still wasn’t zipped up all the way and Peter sighed. He ripped off his own mask (hey, it was habit keeping it on) and laid a hand on the kid’s shoulder. Spidey dropped his duffle and ran into his arms, which, yeah, Peter wasn’t expecting, but he wasn’t going to push him away. If he wanted some comfort, Peter sure as hell will give it to him. 

“Beck—he—I don’t know, I don’t know what to do. My identity’s out and—” he was stammering into his suit and Peter rubbed the kid’s back. 

“C’mon, kid, let’s get you inside. We’ll figure out how to fix this,” Peter said, angling his body so that they both could move. Spidey was still sniffling when he picked up his bag and trudged his feet inside.

* * *

* * *

After Peter and Spidey came up with a plan, Spidey had asked Pepper Potts to help schedule a press conference the next day, at their earliest (in)convenience. So when game day started, Peter had been thinking about yesterday, about how Spidey had clung to him, how Peter felt... nice knowing he was helping this kid’s life. Did Peter really want kids? He thought back to Miles and Spidey briefly and sighed. Yeah, he really did. He put on his suit even though the drones would project the image of Spidey’s suit onto it. Hell, it would project an entirely new face if needs be. Beck’s tech was insanely good at these illusions and the fact that there were two spider people in this universe made it clear about what needed to happen. This press conference was to save Spidey’s ass because the kid really didn’t know how to keep a secret to himself. 

Peter helped create the new identity and when he said create, he really meant he told Spidey, “Make him sorta look like me, but blonde. We’ll call him Ben Reilly if the press demands for a reveal.”

Not that Peter was planning on one, but extra precautions were necessary. And if Peter neglected to tell the story behind the name and face, no one would know besides him. Well no one in this universe at least. 

Spidey just nodded, tapping a few things on the holographic screen. “No offense, but I’m gonna make you look less... animated and more like how I look.” He paused which let the music surround them. “I didn’t even think about using the drones to help. I actually didn’t want to touch E.D.I.T.H. or any of Mr. Stark’s drones after London.”

“We do what we need to do to keep the people we love safe,” Peter said. He shoved the rest of his mustard-only hot dog in his mouth and chewed noisily. Everything might look different, but food still tasted like food. He rubbed his fingers on the sweatpants he was given moments before and Spidey looked at him with bewildered respect in his eyes. “And if that means using Beck’s tech to do it, so be it.”

Peter had done a lot in his past to keep his identity a secret. He had even visited another dimension where its Peter Parker made a deal with Mestipho (not Peter’s first choice to ask for help, but what did he know) to save May and erase the memory of his identity from everyone. Even if Parker didn’t explain everything, the black suit he wore made Peter understand. Parker told him, voice hard, “I did what I had to do to keep May safe.” He took a deep breath. “I think he took something from me in exchange for what I asked for, but I can’t remember what it is.”

Peter clenched his jaw and looked around the room, sparse and messy. There was one picture of Parker and May on the table, but no one else. Peter asked, even though he was afraid of what he’d hear, “Where’s MJ?”

The answer made his heart break. “Who’s MJ?”

Peter doesn’t remember how long he stayed in that universe, but there was an ache in his chest that reached out in symphonic agony at Parker’s loss. A loss he didn’t even remember losing. In all the universes he popped into, MJ was always a constant. The Peter in the universe might be dating someone else at the time, but she was always there. There would be no Peter without an MJ in any universe and the fact that Mestipho took away memories of her made Peter rush to go back home. Back to his MJ. The moment he was back in his own universe, he ran towards MJ’s house and didn’t wait a second before he held her in his arms. She didn’t ask any questions, just hugged him back just as tightly and kissed his forehead. She murmured, “It’s okay, tiger. I’m here. I’m here.”

“Peter?” Spidey asked, holding out a StarkPad towards him. He shook himself from his thoughts and took it. The kid was dressed in his normal clothes and looked about ready to run for the hills as each second ticked by.

Peter placed his hand on Spidey’s shoulder and squeezed. “It’s gonna be fine, kid. We’re gonna fix this. Now go out there and lie to the world about your not-so-fake identity.”

Spidey shook out his limbs and bounced on the balls of his feet as if he were gearing up for a run. He looked at Peter and gave him a grimaced smile before he threw himself into the fire. Peter didn’t need super-hearing for his ears to burst at the amount yelling the press did, at the shuttering of the cameras. 

Spidey said into the mic, “I know all of you expect some type of admission or, I don’t know, for me to be arrested or something, but what Mysterio said isn’t the truth.” Spidey’s voice cracked and he gripped the podium so tightly, Peter can hear it beginning to crack. “I was Mr. Stark’s personal intern before the Blip, before he—he died. Mysterio isn’t some hero from another world like he said he was. He worked for Mr. Stark back in 2016.”

The old school projector turned on and showed Beck’s employee information and pictures of his life before he showed up weeks ago. The room was silent, except for the occasional flash. Spidey continued, “His name was Quentin Beck.”

There was a flurry of noises and Spidey pointed at one person. “Why did Beck target you, Mr. Parker?”

“Mr. Stark gifted me part of his legacy, the science kind, not the hero one,” Spidey said, looking down at his nails as he played with the heavy metal of the podium. The jitters in his legs were back and bouncier than ever. Poor kid. “Beck was fired and Mr. Stark is dead. I think he just wanted to get revenge for ruining his life’s work.”

“Why you? What makes you so special?” one reporter shouted and Spidey flinched. In another lifetime, Peter would’ve been with those vultures, taking pictures and selling himself. Now he was with different vultures, working as Oscorp’s “data analyst” which meant that he programmed a goober to do the work for him while he was out fighting crime, saving New York City again. And again. And again. It brought decent money and Peter rarely had to show his face at the office. It killed him to work under Oscorp after Norman and Harry and all that jazz, but money’s money. If Peter could sell pictures of himself for money, he could work for Oscorp. It also gave him the ability to latch onto their network and check out for any shady Osborn business, so Peter figured it was a win-lose-win for him at least. 

Spidey said, losing the little composure he had. “I, uh, I—I don’t know, I mean—”

“That doesn’t change the fact that Beck said you’re Spider-Man,” someone yelled. With that comment, everyone seemed to get rowdier, the lights on the cameras seeming like a never-ending stream of bright flashes. That was Peter’s cue. He shot a web and swung slowly to Peter, glad that the few drones in the room were working its magic and making him look realistic. 

“Fraud’s a crime, you know,” Peter joked, nudging Spidey’s shoulder. The kid visibly looked relieved at his appearance, like he wouldn’t have come and it was all just a nightmare come to life. 

The reporter Spidey pointed out mocked, “You could just be a guy in a costume.”

Like actual sheep, the other reporters nodded in unison. Peter rolled his eyes and stepped down and sat at the edge of the stage, snatching a stray mic with his webs. “Okay, first of all, what can Spider-Man do that normal people, say a person in a costume, can’t physically do.”

“Climb on walls?” 

“Exactly!” Peter said, glad that some of them have their wits. He showed them his suit, which admittedly _was_ technically fake given the illusion, but he really was wearing his trusty suit underneath it all. “Now, look, you can even take a picture of this. There’s nothing on my hands or feet that can stick to walls right? It’s plain old stretchy spandex.” They nodded, so he stood up and jumped and landed on the ceiling with ease. He walked across it as if it were the stage and the sea of reporters and photographers gaped at him. Peter asked, “Now what else can Spider-Man do?”

“Stop a truck with his bare hands,” someone offered. The longer Peter did this, the less tension Spidey radiated. Honestly, the things he would do to help a fellow Spider-Kid out. Peter jumped down and landed on his feet. 

“Not the best setting to show this off, but we can work with it,” Peter said, scratching at his chin. He looked back at Spidey and the podium. “Okay, Peter can you turn the podium around and sit on top of it.”

Spidey looked at him with shocked eyes, but did as he was told. This wasn’t exactly in their plan, but a little improv never hurt anybody. Actually, don’t quote Peter on that. He was grateful for the mask though because it hid the fact that he was smiling like a maniac, trying to repress the laughter bubbling in his chest. Spidey pretended to look flushed and worn out as he moved the heavy piece of metal around. Why they ever made a podium that heavy, Peter would never know. It did look nice and expensive though, and it was a perfect example for him given that it weighed at least a hundred pounds, with Spidey’s added weight it made for a hefty weight for a normal person. Peter didn’t look like a bodybuilder, the only thing slightly broad about him was his shoulders, while the rest of him was lanky. It was great for flexibility, but someone his stature couldn’t carry something of that weight with ease. Peter almost laughed at Spidey’s expression as he sat atop the podium. 

Peter stepped up and grabbed the podium and lifted it, carrying it in his hands like it was a small kitten. He then raised it above his head and moved the center of gravity, so a single hand could carry it. He shot a web at the mic and brought up back up to his face. Peter walked down like he was strolling down the park and he said, “Can I introduce myself now? Hey, I’m the one and only Spider-Man.”

“Mr. Spider-Man, sir, can you please put me down,” Spidey asked him, his pitch higher than usual. 

“Sure, kid,” Peter said, grinning at the embarrassed tone. He’ll take embarrassment over the kid’s identity being revealed any day. He threw the mic at a random journalist and set him down on solid ground. 

“If you’re Spider-Man, then why did your classmates notice that whenever you’re missing, Spider-Man appears?” someone asked, handing back the mic to Peter and Peter handed it to Spidey. 

“As I’ve said before, I was Mr. Stark’s personal intern. He assigned me to work with Spider-Man and his tech,” Spidey reasoned and Peter was impressed at how the lie seemed natural. Give him a few more years and he should have this identity thing down to a pat. 

“Yeah and Peter grew on me,” Peter said, ruffling the kid’s hair, making him protest. “Can’t lose the kid who keeps this suit in check.”

The reporters all seemed to mull over their lie and believe it. Peter said, “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve got places to be, criminals to stop, kittens to save.“ _Dimensions to hop._

With that, Peter swung away, but the last thing he heard was Pepper saying, “Stark Industries has all of Quentin Beck’s information. If any of you have further questions or doubts, contact my team of lawyers.”

Peter waited on the roof a few blocks away until he felt that familiar tingle at the back of his neck. Spidey lightly padded over and laid down on the ledge next to him. He said, “Is it finally time for that talk now?”

Peter snorted and leaned back on the palms of his hands, squinting at the rising sun behind the mask. “What do you wanna know, kid? I’ve got time before I have to head back to my home.” He wiggled his wrist at Spidey’s general direction. 

“I thought the multiverse was fake after I realized Beck lied to me. He said that he was from Earth-833 and I was from Earth-616, but now? I don’t know. Does he know about the multiverse?”

Peter blew air noisily through pursed lips. “That was _not_ the question I was expecting, but I think he just made it up. A little uncanny though since 616 is actually my universe’s number, not yours.”

“What’s mine?”

“199999,” Peter answered. “Weird number for a weird world.”

“Hey,” Spidey protested. “At least I look real.”

“Real is a relative term, kid.” Peter huffed out a laugh. “To me, you’re the one who looks fake.” 

A moment passed before Spidey said, “Is every Spider-Man me… I mean Peter Parker?” There was an undercurrent of solemnity in his voice, like he had aged a lifetime asking that question. Peter understood, probably because he was the only one who can other than Spidey in this universe. See, Peter never regretted becoming Spider-Man. He mourned the loss of a normal life where he could marry MJ and have kids with her because there wasn’t some moral dilemma or real fear behind his reasoning for not having them. He mourned the people he lost because they got too close to him, but Peter couldn’t regret all the people he did save. Yeah, JJ and the cops were on his ass even decades down the line, some New Yorkers too, but it was the little things that made everything worth it. Like how he hung out with the homeless guys near the underpass and they traded stories and food, like how every time a child came up to him and gave him a hug for being their hero because he saved their balloon, like how a scared teen had clung to his arm and thanked him for walking them home because they were scared of being followed. So Peter never regretted becoming Spider-Man, but being New York’s hero was hard and nearly thankless and it was so damn difficult to wake up some days and Peter knew Spidey was feeling the same because he did, even at Spidey’s age. God, even way before because being Peter Parker in any universe was never a breeze. 

“No,” Peter said honestly. “But there are a lot of Peter Parkers who became Spider-Man. There’s whole worlds out there with Spider-Women, or Spider-People, or even Spider-Thing, kid. Not every Peter Parker is destined for this life.” Peter just hasn’t met them yet. 

Spidey nodded and they stayed silent, listening to New York’s heartbeat under their feet. Peter nudged the kid and he startled, sitting up and staring at him. Peter said, “Hand me your phone.”

Peter took it and fiddled with it for a few moments, bringing out Peni’s own device and syncing it. “There. Now it takes multidimensional calls and texts. Normal data rates don't apply.” 

“Thank you,” Spidey said, eyes widening as he gaped at the phone. He closed his mouth and tucked it back into his pocket. “Does this mean you’re leaving?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, scratching the back of his head. “MJ and I were supposed to have a date night last night, but when trouble’s comes knocking, Spider-Man answers the call.”

“She’ll forgive you though, right?”

“She always does. And I’ll give you some Parker advice: she’s a keeper, don’t let her go, okay?” Peter cracked a smile at Spidey’s rapidly reddening face and he fixed his watch. Earth-616, ready to go. He ruffled the kid’s hair and said, “I’ll see you around, kiddo.”

Then with one click, Peter was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed !!!! send me prompts on my [tumblr](http://bipetermj.tumblr.com/) if you want !!


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